boredom as my guide 10/19/18

boredom is my looking glass.

it is a mirror for introspection’s view.

I ask boredom in

for some words exchanged,

maybe for an opinion 

or a quick conclusion or two.

not for the laboring, as a drone existence,

just for a spoon-full of a taste remark 

about the ongoing soup, pool, slop of the day.

of course, languid, as a first response, can be

but not as a lament,

more as a sarcastic venting 

with mocking reverence.

yes, that is what I want, 

in a full view.

I want to see

who of me is doing being bored

and who of me for whom

using topic is as the dialogue-lure, 

but seriously looking to swim the tone

back to source,

to where in my mind

this conclusion became so grand

as to impress me with a dispositional mood.

standing confessional, face to face ,

with the great teacher from within.

asking for what has bought and sold me

into the confines of boredom.

is it the addiction to observation

yet trapped again by familiarity’s ploy?

is it the wrath of conclusions

strung together so sequentially taut, 

so tight as if to strangle?

is it the dodge-ball struggle

with self-identity’s constancy of slippage?

is it a quick mind in a retention world,

where all you can think 

amounts to a moment’s pause?

yes, I love the dialogue with boredom’s source.

it is a sense of self 

in inward mirror fashion,

like who of me is doing being bored

and how is that impressing me to boot.

there is some much going on 

behind the reality curtain of the mind.

boredom, as my guide,

seems to always take me there.

and eventually to ask, 

why is reality so billboard-in-passing rude? . . .